


Picking Up the Pieces

by senalishia



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ambiguiously Adultery, F/F, Polyamory, Probably not LaCE compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-20 19:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senalishia/pseuds/senalishia
Summary: Nerdanel has isolated herself in the decades since her husband and sons fled Valinor, hoping to forget she ever left her father's house. But she still has two sisters-in-law who love her and are not going to let her disappear. Before long, they make a surprising revelation and an offer that she is going to have to give a lot of careful thought to. What are her obligations toward those who seemed to give no consideration to her?
Relationships: Anairë/Eärwen (Tolkien), Anairë/Eärwen/Nerdanel (Tolkien)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: 2020 My Slashy Valentine





	Picking Up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



Nerdanel had ignored the knock at the door of her father’s house, though she could hear it from her workshop. Now, she blinked blankly at Ilmahtië and tried to comprehend the meaning of the words “You have visitors”. She’d never been asked to interact directly with clients since...since she returned, just took the orders her father delivered to her and dutifully filled them. Who could have come seeking her, that her older sister would be so eager to deliver her up to?

She certainly didn't expect to see Anairë and Eärwen  _ both  _ standing there smiling at her. "Would you like to...come in?" she invited awkwardly.

She did her best to summon up the polite niceties she’d trained into herself once upon a time, in that fairy tale life she'd inhabited for a while, long ago. She had nowhere to receive them now but a craftsman's humble home. But of course Anairë was too well-bred not to behave as if she were still in the royal palace in Tirion, and Eärwen seemed to show genuine delight in the works of art created by Mahtan and his family that decorated their small sitting room.

"How...have you been? What brings you so far out?" she asked as Ilmahtië helpfully delivered tea and simple biscuits.

"We wanted to see you, of course!" Eärwen replied. "We missed you."

"We'd thought to give you space, allow you to come to us when you were ready. But it has been over a long-year." Anairë sipped her tea with bone-deep elegance. "Perhaps we waited too long."

Did her sisters-in-law miss her for her own sake, enough to come so many miles out here looking for her? The three of them had once met for afternoon tea together on Aldúya almost every week, even after everything had started to disintegrate and everyone else had moved to Formenos. And yet somehow she hadn't realized they considered her...a friend.

She missed them too, of course, when her thoughts turned to them. But she mostly tried to avoid thinking about that era of her life entirely, these days. It was so much less painful to pretend it had never happened. 

She let them question her until they obtained the full story of what she'd been up to for the last hundred or so years. Mostly she spent her days assisting her father or working on whatever projects needed doing--usually crafting simple dishes or tools to be used in the homes of her neighbors. She liked being useful; it was a good enough existence day to day. Once every few years artistic inspiration would take hold of her and she'd disappear for a week or two until she got it out of her system. But the pieces she created always wound up displaying her heart's deepest griefs too nakedly for her to want to show them to anyone else.

Her guests, of course, had kept themselves busy governing the remainder of the Noldor. They were welcome to it. They'd all discussed, briefly, the four of them, once the crisis had passed and the sun was well on its way, whether she had any claim to the title of Queen. She didn't want it, especially now that her husband was confirmed to have found his way to Mandos's halls. These days she tried to avoid talk of politics if she was at all able.

"Are you doing all right?" Eärwen leaned forward earnestly. "Really?"

"I've got," she waved a hand and tried not to let them hear the sudden knot in her throat, "more than many." It was true, from a certain point of view. Her mother, father, Ilmahtië and her husband, and even one of their sons had stayed.

Most women hadn't even been blessed with seven children to lose. She was lucky, in a way.

Eärwen and Anairë exchanged a look but didn't dig any further on that subject. The conversation bounced back and forth between current projects and happy old memories. Before she knew it hours had passed and she was inviting them to stay for dinner. Her mother talked them into staying the night, but by the next morning they insisted that they needed to be on their way home. Nerdanel was surprised to discover she genuinely wished they didn't have to go. The hot ache of missing them started to fill her even as she walked them to the door.

"We'll miss you too, darling," Anairë told her as they embraced. "We'd love to see you down in Tirion some day."

Nerdanel wasn't the sort of person to make decisions about multiple-day trips away from her work on a whim. But the thought didn't leave her. She went on missing her sisters-in-law and found herself turning the idea over and over in her mind as she worked over the next few weeks. Before she had quite realized it, she'd addressed all the necessary arrangements and her family was excitedly telling her all the things she ought to do while she was in the city. Soon she had nothing to do but pack a few things, bid her family goodbye, and go.

* * *

Nerdanel looked this way and that as she approached the palace doors, but no one seemed to pay her any attention. She supposed there there weren't enough people in Tirion anymore to have a regular greeter at the front entrance the way there used to be. She pulled a door open; the intricately tiled entrance hall was empty, and lit only by sunlight from the small windows high on either wall.

She was nearly across the room, thinking to make her way to the garden, when Eärwen poked her head in and immediately squealed in delight. She rushed over, pulling up short in time to take Nerdanel's hand in both of hers. "You came! Ah, you're really here!"

Nerdanel acquiesced to her offer of a place in the palace during her stay. Eärwen took her worn canvas workbag containing a few changes of clothes and the remainder of her provisions, and tucked it into one of the many empty rooms.

"It's Aldúya afternoon," Nerdanel put forth hesitantly. "I don't suppose the two of you still…" Was it wrong to let on how much she hoped that some things had never changed?

"We absolutely do. You got here just in time!" She detoured them into the kitchen just long enough to acquire an extra cup and saucer.

"Anairë, look who's here!" said Eärwen as soon as the two of them entered the familiar little walled garden where the three of them had always met for tea. 

Anairë smiled broadly. "Oh, how marvellous! It's so good to see you again, Nerdanel."

Eärwen skipped on light feet to where Anairë sat and leaned over to embrace her. She nuzzled her face into Anairë's shoulder, ran a hand up the back of her neck nearly to her hairline, then pecked a kiss on the corner of her mouth before taking a step back.

Though she had no one to blame but herself, Nerdanel felt a stab of envy at how close these two had remained during her absence. Not just emotionally, but physically as well. Nerdanel had never quite found a replacement for the days when she'd had a child in her lap every morning and a fiery heat beside her every night. Seeing them so comfortable with each other made her realize just how little she  _ touched  _ anyone anymore. She caught herself leaning forward a little, wanting what they had, and tried to compose herself before either of them could see.

She must not have masked her yearning well enough. The next thing she knew, Eärwen had flitted back to her and wrapped both arms around her in turn, ran a hand up and down her back in a way that left her wanting more, and stood on tip-toe to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

A raised eyebrow from Anairë in their direction made Nerdanel suddenly as self-conscious as she'd been as a plain-faced, gangly youth. Back when she'd been unable to follow the social games of the others except to know she was losing them. She didn't have anything to fear from Anairë, surely, but she still worried she'd misstepped, somehow. She pulled reluctantly away from Eärwen and hurried to take a seat at the table.

"She needs it just as much as you once did!" said Eärwen in a tone of protest as she seated herself. "More, even, since she's been alone so much longer."

"You're not infallible, and neither is your judgement" Anairë responded implacably. "Perhaps you should ask if your affections are welcome."

"Oh, no--it's fine--I don't--" Nerdanel began, her first instinct, as ever, to keep the peace. Then she took a breath and reminded herself that she wouldn't get what she wanted unless she was honest about her feelings. "It felt--really nice," she admitted.

Eärwen grinned triumphantly and served herself some fresh raspberries and a couple of tiny frosted cakes.

Nerdanel didn't regret coming, not at all, but found it harder here to push the old memories away. She kept catching herself trying to form a question about how their children were doing, she hadn't seen them in so long, only to remember that they didn't know any more than she did. Mandos would tell them, upon request, which souls dwelt with him, but no more. And it seemed a misstep to raise the subject, especially since Anairë already knew of a son and a daughter-in-law that had gone that way.

But for those that still lived, the minutiae of daily life provided plenty of fodder for conversation. Yes, Nerdanel's trip had been untroublesome, although travelling by night had been an interesting experience--certain landmarks looked so different by the light of the moon. Anairë narrated the new intricacies of the much-reduced royal court with attention to detail that Nerdanel could hardly follow. Eärwen told delightful stories about how people were getting along in Alqualondë, although Nerdanel noticed when she sidestepped certain topics. 

As they spoke, Eärwen's hands were always ready with a comforting pat or squeeze. She seemed to reach out to Anairë more instinctively, though she made an obvious effort not to exclude Nerdanel.

When the sun began to shine golden through the trees around them, and the three of them were replete with cheerful companionship, they gave themselves permission to take up the heavier matters. At a turn in the conversation that she hoped was appropriate, Nerdanel volunteered that she still checked at least once a year with the Maiar in the black and white cloaks; none of her sons nor her grandson had yet followed her husband to the Halls. In turn, she was relieved to hear that they also had no more deaths to report. As they picked at crumbs and began stacking dishes, Eärwen was more honest with them about the complex sorrows that the people of the Teleri were still coping with. How their pain at such a betrayal warred with the desire not to take it out on those left behind, who were often the least to blame. 

"So--do you think…?" she heard Eärwen murmur in Anairë's direction as she returned to carry one more load of dishes to the kitchen. But she didn't hear the rest of the question or Anairë's reply. She tried to remind herself that they were allowed to have their own relationship that didn't include her.

Once everything was cleaned up, Nerdanel retreated to her room for a couple of hours to rest and regroup. She loved Anairë and Eärwen, but even their company could drain her eventually. She changed into something not quite so travel-worn and over dinner was able to have her first real conversation with Arafinwe since she arrived. He seemed more serious than he had been, more burdened with care. More like his father.

After dinner, Nerdanel and her sisters-in-law lingered in a soft, cozy parlor and shared a last bottle of wine around. The conversation now turned more openly ribald. Eärwen had never been shy about such topics, but even Anairë joined in, recounting in explicit detail some of her most brazen fantasies without ever failing in her excruciatingly aristocratic diction. Nerdanel felt a little thrill in not censoring herself for politeness's sake and added in some experiences and a clever but bawdy pun of her own.

As their laughter faded to sore-sided gasps, Anairë and Eärwen shared another sidelong glance and then Anairë said, "Oh very well. I suppose there's no point in dragging things out. One of us probably ought to tell her."

Nerdanel's stomach dropped. Tell her what? They didn't seem offended or angry, but... She held her breath as the seconds of silence seemed to drag on endlessly.

"So," Eärwen began with an uncharacteristic hesitance, "you know that the Teleri tend to keep a little bit…closer to the ancient ways." A polite way of saying that although they respected the wisdom of the Valar, they took the holy pronouncements on the subjects of love and marriage more as  _ guidelines _ . Good advice, in some circumstances, but not laws to necessarily supercede traditions that stretched back to the waters of Cuivienen. In practice, this meant that they had a reputation for all kinds of sexual liberties that neither the Vanyar nor the Noldor would tolerate. “Many of us believe that this sort of pleasure, and the closeness it can bring, doesn’t need to be restricted to one person, or one type of relationship.” She glanced at Anairë. 

"Even here in Tirion, it's not uncommon, among the court at least, for women to have... _ very _ close female friends," Anairë added. "Some continue to indulge in the practice even after they are married, although I never considered it particularly good form to do so without one's spouse's knowledge and consent." She wrapped her hand around Eärwen's.

"And you--" Nerdanel started, catching on. This was exactly the sort of thing Fëanáro had decried as "the useless hedonism of the idle nobility", but hearing about it from Anairë just made her feel small and unsophisticated. And Anairë had never been anything but devout, as far as she knew, even though this was exactly the sort of thing that the Valar had expected the Eldar to put behind them once they'd been “raised to a higher level of civilization”. "The two of you are--? All this time--?" 

"Well--I never had any reason to do so while--while my husband was  _ here _ ," Anairë admitted. "But we'd discussed the practice now and then, and he only said that if I had one, he’d like to meet her. And so--afterward…"

"I seduced her," said Eärwen with a smug smile, curling an arm around Anairë's shoulders.

"Every time we greeted each other, her kisses lingered a bit longer and her hands drifted a bit lower, with increasingly less plausible deniability, until I just had to ask her if her intentions were entirely innocent or if there was something she was trying to tell me." Anairë smiled and leaned into Eärwen’s touch.

"Oh," said Nerdanel, and let the silence yawn before her. Was there a polite thing to say in this situation? She was afraid that if she didn't carefully guard her tongue, one of a thousand conflicting emotions was sure to lead her awry. 

"She's shocked. We've shocked her," Eärwen said despondently.

"Give her time to think. She does her best work when she's not rushed, you know," Anairë replied.

Right. They trusted her with this, trusted her as someone who considered things and tried to understand before reacting rashly. She thought she would probably need to take a while to really feel like she'd examined her feelings properly. But she knew one thing she could say. "I'm glad for you." She hoped her smile didn't look forced. It wasn't, mostly. "I'm glad you have this. You look so happy when you're together. I'm glad you found something good."

They both visibly relaxed. "Thank you," Eärwen said. She took a deep breath. "There is one other thing, now that you know. And of course this is completely up to you, but--we're both agreed that we love you just as much and we're happy to add a third if you're at all interested."

They-- She--

What.

"Think about it as long as you'd like, let us know any time," said Anairë. "Or feel free to pretend we never said anything if that's better for you, we won't mention it again until you do."

Nerdanel nodded silently. She had  _ a lot _ to think about.

* * *

She sat in her room later that night and made herself turn over in her mind this revelation about Eärwen and Anairë's relationship. And their offer to include her in it. She'd always tried to judge morality from first principles, regardless of what "other people" might think. If they were convinced that everyone involved, their spouses foremost, had agreed to this arrangement, she could see no particular grounds to object. And they did genuinely seem to be taking joy in each other, from what she'd seen. The Valar gave the Children of Ilúvatar much counsel but few commands. 

She was happy for them, as she’d said, and beyond flattered that they wanted to include her, but her first thought was that of course she would have to decline. Eärwen could ask permission outright, and Anairë seemed to believe that her actions would be condoned in absentia. But Nerdanel herself did not have that freedom.

To leave her husband, to let him die and then turn and take up with someone else… It would have struck at the heart of Fëanáro's deepest insecurities. However much she could no longer live with what he had become, she couldn't do that to the person she once loved. He had accused her of disloyalty already, but she did not have to prove him right.

But on the other hand… It had never been about  _ sex _ , not really. When snared in the profoundest throes of his pain and resentment, he would sometimes fling acid disdain at the 'unbridled lusts' even of his own beloved father. But it was abandonment, the loss of  _ love _ , that he really feared. And as far as he was concerned, she'd done that already, both when she'd refused to follow him into exile and when she'd declined to defy the Valar and leave Aman entirely. Anything she might choose to deny herself now for his memory's sake might be nothing more than a hollow gesture.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. Laying out a neat trail of logic to justify what she already--yes,  _ already wanted to do _ . She couldn’t even quite say whether it was the emotional closeness or the physical she craved so much. The thought of being included in what her sisters-in-law shared made her heart sing, though she’d never been attracted to women in  _ that way _ , that she knew of. But when she imagined the kind of things the three of them might do to each other--well, it made her heart beat a little faster, too.

She needed to be as honest with herself as she was able. She needed to make a decision that she could live with afterward. But in complete and total truth, she thought she could imagine Fëanáro's reaction to the idea of her taking a lover, especially a female lover. First, of course, he would scoff at the idea that the Valar were any arbiters of morality. His parting speech in Tirion had been full of calls to return to the ways of their ancestors. And hadn't he always done everything he could to make sure she was sexually satisfied, even when he was uninterested himself? This was the farthest thing from another  _ marriage _ , which would have been the true betrayal.

Really, the part that would offend him the most would be the fact that Anairë was one of the involved parties. He'd always regarded their friendship with suspicion and warned her that such a pious noblewoman could never be trusted. Eärwen, though a princess herself, usually got a pass on account of Teleri culture being so different, but Anairë represented everything he hated about the family he wouldn't acknowledge. And Nerdanel had never allowed that to have one whit of influence on who she chose to associate with. So what exactly was standing in her way?

She passed the night with these thoughts continually twisting and tumbling through her head. 

* * *

Nerdanel approached the two of them the next morning, as soon as she saw them alone together. "Does anyone else...know?" she choked out. "That the two of you are... with each other?"

Eärwen looked at Anairë consideringly. "We're discreet-ish? It's not  _ exactly _ a secret, but we don't discuss it openly without a good reason? Hmmm. Arafinwë knows, obviously. And Olwion, but only because he's too nosy for his own good."

"Telulotë, who does most of the cooking, probably suspects, given how many breakfasts we've taken in the same room," Anairë added. "And I as much as told Findis last time I was in Valmar. It came up!" she said to Eärwen's open mouth.

"And it's mostly been...all right?" she confirmed.

"I'm sure people  _ talk _ ," said Anairë. "But it hasn't seemed to have any particularly ill repercussions, no."

"That's--that's good." She took a deep breath. "That's not--my only or even my most important qualm. It's not like things actually become more or less moral by consensus. But it is--it helps, I think. To know other people's opinions aren't too bad."

Eärwen seemed to be on the edge of saying something but was valiantly holding her tongue.

Nerdanel looked at her. "It's okay. You can say it." Whatever it was, she didn't want them thinking that they couldn't talk about this to spare her feelings. She  _ wanted _ to talk it through with them, get all the issues out in the open before she made a decision.

"It kind of sounds like you  _ want _ to join us but you're not sure it's--the right choice?"

No use lying about it. "Yes, you could say that. Part of it's just--not wanting to feel left out? Even though I know you would never actually hold it against me or exclude me because of it, it's--those feelings are hard to put aside, somtimes. But I also--" She felt her face heating up. This was so much harder to talk about in the light of day, in complete sobriety, and directly to their faces. "I mean--I never even thought of myself as the kind of person who would want--with women?. But when I think of the two of  _ you,  _ who I already know and love, it's, um, a lot easier to imagine? So yes, I would definitely say I  _ want _ to, but I'm not fully convinced that I should."

Anairë nodded gravely. "Your situation is different than either of ours. You know the particulars better than anyone else and you will have to live with the decision and its consequences, in the end. I do not know what counsel I can give except to say that I would not have extended the invitation if I thought either choice a wrong one."

"Thank you," said Nerdanel. "I may need to just think on it a little more."

Eärwen bit her lip. "Of course! Though if you're worried about feeling left out--and of course you're right that we would never, but if you're having trouble convincing your heart--perhaps you'd like to just come and watch?"

Nerdanel could hardly remember a time she wanted to say yes so badly. Perhaps not since she agreed to be married. "I definitely think it would be risky to say yes to that if I wasn't pretty sure I would be okay with--giving into temptation, if it proved--too tempting." And she could definitely imagine that it might.

Eärwen sighed. "You're probably right." She looked at Anairë. "We did have a little something planned for tonight, before you arrived. So give it some more thought, but--if you decide to join us, we'll be in the big bedroom at the end of the corridor on the second floor--you know the one."

Nerdanel swallowed and nodded. "I know it."

* * *

They all mutually agreed that it was for the best to give her some time to herself. She spent the whole day wandering the streets of Tirion and mentally tying herself into philosophical knots. What was her real goal? What was the best way to accomplish it?

Didn't she deserve to just do something for herself for once? Surely none of  _ the rest of her family _ had made any of their decisions with  _ her _ feelings in mind. Not that turnabout was necessarily fair play; wasn't the point to be  _ better _ than that?

And on and on and on.

When she returned to the palace, she'd more or less made a decision. It would probably be best for  _ her own _ mental and emotional wellbeing if she took things slow at first. It might be good, as Eärwen had suggested, to come and just watch. She couldn't completely convince herself that getting sexually involved with someone else--two someone elses--was morally defensible. In the end she only had her own justifications to guide her. But she thought she could forgive herself if she needed to--more easily than she could forgive herself if she let this opportunity pass her by.

She spent the night's dinner wracked with nervousness about what was to come next, although the others gave no indication that they felt likewise, making delightful, easy conversation just as they had the night before. When Anairë and Eärwen made their way upstairs afterward, she followed silently behind them. Eärwen's face lit up when Nerdanel entered the bedroom with them, and Anairë gave her a small, soft smile.

The room they entered was at least twice the size of the perfectly spacious one she’d been staying in. Every wall was draped in richly embroidered tapestries that kept the room from seeming too cavernous. To her right, a fire already crackled pleasantly. To her left lay a vast expanse of bed, covered with shimmering silk sheets, thick quilts, and a mountain of pillows.

The room was clearly not furnished for entertaining large numbers of guests, but a single, well-stuffed chair occupied a corner near the fire. Nerdanel seated herself there and tried not to fidget too openly.

From a cabinet near the bed, Eärwen retrieved a small chest inlaid with mother-of-pearl. She set it on the table next to the bed and unlocked it with a deft twist of her fingers.Out of it she pulled a couple of colored glass vials, half full of liquid. Nerdanel lifted her chin but didn't go so far as to crane her neck to see what else lay inside. She caught only a jumble of earth tones and bright colors, mattes and glosses, before Eärwen closed the chest's lid.

Eärwen was completely out of her clothes in the time it took Nerdanel to blink, her slight figure and small breasts on shameless display. Anairë took longer, allowing Eärwen to undo her sash and slide off her gorgeous outer robe, then slip her hand underneath her soft, white inner robe. Eventually Eärwen peeled that back from her shoulders as well and uncovered her torso entirely, exposing her exquisitely formed bosom. 

They were both, objectively, beautiful, each in her own way, Eärwen's golden-brown skin against Anairë's deeper, cooler brown. But the mere sight of them didn't kindle in her more than the ghost of attraction, as she knew it. She'd seen naked female bodies before--she owned one herself, if not a particularly lovely model.

Eärwen dabbed a bit of a sea-green bottle's contents on her fingers and rubbed them together, then took hold of one of Anairë's nipples and gently massaged it. Anairë let her head hang back and hummed with pleasure as Eärwen did the same to the other side. Anairë moaned soft and low when Eärwen bent down and began playing her lips and tongue over her breasts instead.

Nerdanel pressed her thighs together and squirmed in her seat. The sight may not have done anything for her, but that  _ sound  _ caused heat to blossom in her without warning. Fëanáro had delighted in taking her apart with his nimble hands and tongue until she screamed with the release, but when he was struck with desire, he was silent and focused. 

These two, though--she could hardly listen to them expressing their pleasure so freely without experiencing some sympathetic arousal of her own. She wedged her hands beneath her legs and--for now--forbade herself from giving into the urge to touch herself.

As Eärwen continued to press kisses all over Anairë's torso, Anairë ran her hands along the expanse of Eärwen's skin in return, down her back to the tops of her thighs and up again. 

Then Anairë raised one arm, and Nerdanel realized what she intended to do the instant before her open hand swung down and landed with a loud  _ smack _ on Eärwen's backside. Eärwen made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a moan. Anairë struck her a second and third time, until Eärwen's skin began to turn red. All the while, Eärwen gasped and writhed. She wrapped a leg around one of Anairë's and ground against her, then maneuvered them until the fell together onto the bed, Eärwen on top. 

Eärwen tangled her legs in Anairë's and continued her rhythmic movement with obvious pleasure. As she did so, Anairë reached up, wrapped a hand up in Eärwen’s silver curls, and pulled. Nerdanel couldn’t help but wince a little at the sight.

" _ Yes _ ," Eärwen breathed. Her breath came in deeper gasps as she pressed her entire body against Anairë's and pursued her pleasure with a look of ecstatic concentration on her face. Nerdanel leaned in, and bit her lip. She was beginning to lose all doubt that she would be finding some way to relieve her growing, aching desire before the end of the night.

Eärwen now moaned hoarsely in between nipping kisses along Anairë's neck. The tension was almost too much for Nerdanel to bear, and she watched, hypnotized, as the dance before her grew in intensity. Finally, Eärwen cried out, long and loud, as she arched against Anairë, then snuggled against her as she caught her breath.

Anairë softly stroked Eärwen's hair for a while as she recovered. Then she sighed and smiled when Eãrwen reached down between them and began to stroke a place Nerdanel couldn't see, but could guess. 

Nerdanel would love for someone touch  _ her _ that way, right now. But even more than that, as she watched Anairë's face twist with pleasure, she wanted to know what it was like to have that effect on someone else. To have the power to make them react like that.

If she were to simply stimulate someone  _ else... _ what was the harm, really? Before she could tell herself to stop, she found herself standing up, walking over, and tapping Eäwen timidly on the shoulder. 

Eärwen turned and smiled broadly to see her there. "Want to help?" she asked before Nerdanel could open her mouth and form words. She just nodded in reply. "That all right, my dearest?" Eärwen asked Anairë.

"Well, that depends on what you plan to do," Anairë replied in a smiling haze.

The part of Nerdanel that always had to overachieve kicked in hard just then. "I could--lick you? Your, um, clitoris?" she suggested. Oh, very suave. She was sure there were much prettier words for what she'd just offered to do, but she'd never had the opportunity to pick any of them up.

"Mmmmm, that sounds nice," Anairë said before Nerdanel could hope she would decline.

There was nothing for it now but to follow through. Anairë slid to the foot of the bed and Nerdanel knelt between her open thighs. "I've had this done to me--a lot--but never done it to someone else," she warned. "I'm going to try my best, but…"

"I'm sure you'll have it figured out in no time," Eärwen assured her with a casual pat on the head.

She parted the tight black curls that framed Anairë's point of pleasure. Hesitation would get her nowhere, so she leaned in and set her tongue to work. Anairë tasted more or less like she smelled--a musky, physical scent, not unpleasant, with an added hint of sourness. It took a minute to get into the rhythm of it, but before long she thought she was starting to get the hang of it. She tried to use techniques that she'd enjoyed having used on her. Soon she thought she could judge her success by the rising pitch of Anairë's voice and the increasing tension in her legs.

"I'm going to play with your hair, okay?" Eärwen murmured in her ear. It still took Nerdanel a moment to realize she was the one being addressed. "Uh-huh," she breathed her assent without stopping her ministrations.

She felt her braids shift and loosen, and the barest tug on her scalp. The sensation sent pleasant chills down her back. Combined with Anairë's continued vocal response to her actions, she felt her own folds grow wet and even more hot with need.

Her neck began to ache a bit, but Anairë sounded so close that she pushed through and ignored it. At the end Anairë actually grew quieter, sharp whining breaths culminating in a tiny cry as her whole body shuddered.

Eärwen untangled her fingers from Nerdanel's hair as Nerdanel sat back on her heels. Anairë stretched her entire body with a satisfied groan; once she had composed herself, she sat up on the edge of the bed. "Very impressive for your first time," she deemed.

"I'm--glad you liked it," Nerdanel accepted the complement as graciously as she could.

"Now you?" Eärwen ventured. 

Nerdanel smiled a little. If there had been a line to cross, she was pretty sure she'd dashed straight past it a while ago. She found she didn't regret it. 

"What do you think you might want," Eärwen asked as she knelt beside her and began undoing the buttons on her blouse one by one. Nerdanel inhaled sharply but didn't stop her.

"W-well, I--whatever you want, really?" After all that had happened, she hardly felt she had the right to ask  _ more _ of them, however much she needed  _ something _ right now.

"Ah, ah, this is your first time, it should be special!" Anairë chided.

Earwen finished opening her blouse and ran a finger lightly down the middle of her chest. "D'you want to look in the box," she asked, "see if there's anything that looks fun?" She stood and crossed the room to open it once more.

Nerdanel followed behind her and diffidently poked through the tantalizing treasure trove. Inside were a couple more bottles of fragrant oil and a huge collection of objects shaped like, well, phalluses. Some tended more impressionistic, mere tapered cylinders, while others were as realistic as she could have sculpted herself. She encountered a variety of diameters and materials, some glass-smooth and others studded all over with small bumps.

One of the more anatomically plausible sort came with a network of straps attached that seemed sized to fit around Eärwen's slim hips. Nerdanel turned it over in her hands. Glanced at Eärwen, then quickly away. Then up at her again. Aulë help her, she  _ really _ wanted something inside her right now.

"Do you want me to--?" Eärwen giggled, reaching a hand out for it.

"Oh--well--mmmm--" she stammered, but the warmth creeping into her face did nothing to remedy the warmth between her legs.

"Please? If you want, that is, but I'd love to, really! Anairë never lets me." She slapped Anairë's shoulder playfully.

"I like the parts you came with just fine," Anairë retorted.

"I guess if you wouldn’t get the chance otherwise…?" Nerdanel seized on the excuse and proffered it to her.

Eärwen took it and began strapping it on. "Oh it gets some regular use, just not on Anairë." She looked up and smirked. "It is fun, though." She waved her fingers at the bed. "Go, make yourself comfortable.

Anairë moved to the head of the bed, legs curled to one side, and patted her lap invitingly. Nerdanel indulged the impulse to rest her head on Anairë's soft thighs. 

She supposed she wouldn't get very far if she didn't get out of the rest of her clothes. She unfastened her trousers and Anairë helped her slide them off with her underthings and drop them on the floor. Before she could figured out what to do with her hands, Anairë lifted one to her mouth for a kiss, and continued to hold it as Eärwen positioned herself astride her hips. 

Eärwen brushed a finger down the side of Nerdanel's neck and along her collarbone, then bent down and followed behind it with her lips, nibbling soft kisses along what Nerdanel knew was rough, sun-darkened skin. "Mmmm, love these broad shoulders," Eärwen murmured. "You could put most sailors I know to shame. You're so strong, you're amazing."

"Aw, you're making her pretty red cheeks glow even more!" Anairë remarked as Nerdanel felt herself flush at the...compliment? 

She thought she had come to terms with loving her body for what it could  _ do _ , rather than what it looked like. Even Fëanáro made no secret that he fell in love with her for her mind. Did her sisters--her lovers--really, sincerely mean what they said? Did they find these parts of her _...attractive _ ?

Reflexively, she began to mutter some sort of argument. "You don't need to--I mean, I  _ know  _ I’m not _ \-- _ " Then Eärwen pressed a kiss to her lips and forced her to be quiet. Well, she could occasionally take a hint. If they wanted to fawn on her and call her beautiful, she wouldn't stop them.

Eärwen ran a hand up Nerdanel's thigh, culminating in a tantalizing caress just between her legs. "Do you want some oil, or do you think you're ready enough?" she asked.

"I'm ready," Nerdanel told her. Near desperation, in fact, and certainly wet enough.

Eärwen inched forward, positioned herself, and slid in. As Nerdanel felt herself being filled up, she moaned aloud in sheer relief before she could even ask herself whether it was proper to do so. It was what she needed. But of course once she had it, she wanted even more. She rocked her hips, following Eärwen's rhythm as she pulled out and pushed in, over and over, pleasure washing over her and always just out of reach.

Then Anairë leaned forward just far enough to reach the place where her need had concentrated. At the touch of her fingertips, a whine crept up and out of Nerdanel's throat. The touch was light enough that her climax was ever just out of reach.

For the next several minutes, she let herself float, at the mercy of these two women and their power to stimulate her body to increasing heights of pleasure. Murmurs of "So lovely", "So strong", "Love you" drifted into her ears until the affection seemed so real and right it nearly brought her to tears. 

Finally, she crossed the line after which they could have breathed on her and she would sail straight toward the edge. She didn't bother to hold back her gasps and groans as they carried her along into an explosion of ecstasy.

Afterward, she curled up and let Anairë gently stroke her back as Eärwen cleaned off her toys and packed everything away. "You're welcome to sleep here with us too, if you like," Anairë said.

She could hardly imagine doing anything else. She drifted in a languid afterglow, made even more comfortable as the two of them snuggled in next to her.

She'd grown up knowing she was different, and thinking that meant she would always be alone. She'd learned to take care of herself. Then she'd met someone who understood her, who matched her, who took care of her, and thought that must be her destiny. Then she'd lost that as well.

Now, as the three of them cuddled sleepily in the huge bed, she realized that those were not her only choices. She and Anairë and Eãrwen were three very different women with different upbringings, different personalities, different skills. But they knew how to love each other all the same.


End file.
